Dinner With the Devil

….or at least lunch with my crazy-a** ex-boss.  Yeah, you read right.  I ended up having lunch – on a Saturday no less – with my previous supervisor. 

See, what had happened was…..another work-friend (N) and I decided that after Tasha’s funeral on Saturday we’d go to lunch and just decompress and chillax for a bit.  Okay, okay, we were going to drink!

Anyhoo, ex-boss asked N what she was doing after the funeral, and N with her cannot-ever-be-trusted again self said “Oh, me and Nerd Girl are going to eat.”  And of course, crazy a** invited herself.  Which I did not find out until right before I pulled up at the restaurant.  It took every bit of my being to not burn rubber outta that parking lot, leaving gravel flying in her face…..ahem.

So there  I sat at Cozumel, a salsa laden tortilla chip in one hand, a Dos Equis in the other, glaring across the table at evil incarnate. 

I wanted to ask her why in the h-e-double hockey sticks did she derive such pleasure out of the pain of others.  Why she couldn’t seem to find a Mr. that didn’t have a Mrs.  Why she thinks nobody knows she wears a fall in her hair.

But I didn’t.  I smiled, I chatted, I made polite conversation….all in all, I really had a lovely time.  Which I will deny (outside of this blog) until my death!

First she friended me on FB.  Now we’re lunching together on the weekend.  If we keep this up (trust we won’t!) somebody is going to mistakenly think that we are friends.

Cue the Whitney tape – “Hell to the naw!”

*Special shout out to Pserendipity who gamely called with an “emergency” so I could break camp.  Next time, I’ll remember to turn my ringer on!!!

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